Holes
by SawManiac211
Summary: You can't see my holes...' The prologue should say what the story is about...if it still isn't clear, please read the next chapter. Also PLEASE R&R...have to say that as usual LOL
1. Prologue

_You don't know me._

_You see the me you want to see._

_The heartless me, the cruel me, the evil me._

_You can't see me._

_You can't see my holes..._

**The start of what is going to be a very angsty FanFic...ah well, that's what algebra does to you sometimes...**


	2. Happy

**Quickly I think I'd better explain what I'm trying to do; this is kind of a writing project I set myself, and I'm trying to include one song in each that – hopefully – will fit in with the POV. I hope everyone enjoys it...**

******************************************

**Jigsaw POV**

Picture this:

You've got it all...well, sort of. You've got a great job and your latest building plan has been accepted, promising you a lot of profit, something to make you something of a legend. You already are anyway; people enjoy your sense of humour and you seem pretty popular. You've got a beautiful, wonderful wife who completely loves you back and would never leave you. And then she becomes pregnant, and you have it all planned out; the name, the legacy, the date of birth, which is the year of the pig; fertility and rebirth. Crazy, but you've always been drawn in by the Asian culture.

And then life decides to blow up the bomb under your feet.

A drug addict at your wife's clinic robs it and causes her to miscarriage – to lose the baby.

You get fired from your job. You never get a reason but from all the people trying not to catch your eye you realise it's because

You find out you have cancer.

Pretty bad, huh? Well, it happened to me. Only where most people would have everyone they cared about keeping them together, everything I knew bowed out, too scared of the pain it might cause them.

Jill did that.

Jill...

I don't blame her though; if I'd ran that little bit faster, if I'd actually checked on her when she was late out of work before Cecil ran out, his face petrified...I could've saved him.

I could've saved Gideon.

But then, you can't save what was never actually on the earth, could you?

Not if it was still waiting to come out into the light...

Sitting in the car – the one thing I had left of our marriage, of my past life – staring numbly at those x-ray images of the tumour that caused the headaches and heartbreaks of the past months, I realised.

If there was a God, he was punishing me for not saving my unborn child.

And that was when I decided. I would end my life.

*********************************

Have you ever driven off a cliff? For all those thrill junkies out there, it's the best experience in the world. There's that moment where you seem to have – almost comically – pause in mid air and you think you must've put the brake on without realising it, that you're still on the edge, hanging in the balance.

But then you fall.

And it's the best experience, free falling with nothing to stop you, andreline pulsing through your veins and you whoop like it's the best rollercoaster in the world, because that's what it feels like.

You feel...alive. Exhilarated and free and just _alive_.

And then the car pounds into the ground below, and the ride is over. The metal screams as it is crushed and the engine goes up and as your body is crushed as mercilessly as the car – for this, it turns out, is no rollercoaster – the last thing you see before the cold, numbing blackness tightens its grip around you is your screams venting steam into the cold night air and the glorious red and orange of the flames engulfing your shattered frame as the engine blows up.

But you've just had the ride of your life, it's worth it.

For some reason I'm different. As the car impacts I slam against the glass, window cracking and glass spraying. The engine blows and the sheet of flame engulfs the block of twisted metal only after I have somehow undone the seatbelt and dragged myself from the car.

The mortal ride should be over. But I'm still here. And as I watch the flames flicker in the darkness, as dreamily as a child watching the small bulbs of light from a tea candle, I ask myself..._why_?

And then I realise:

God wants me to redeem myself. Or rather, life wants me to do something.

And then I realise.

It was no simple accident that I wished to kill myself, to reach out to the empty cold embrace of death.

Death did not want me yet. It wanted me to make those who waited for death with open arms to embrace life instead, understand how important it was and turn their backs on the proverbial rollercoaster ride that I had previously ridden.

But the choice would always be theirs. Even if they fell into that dark abyss, it wouldn't be him that pushed them; it would be themselves.

_Live or die...make your choice..._

**********************************

I stumbled up the stairs carved into the cliff. They look worn down, as though trodden with people with heavy hearts.

_Jill..._

I stumble into a roadside café about half a mile from the accident. A blond waitress looks up, her nametag too blurry for me to make out a name. She gasps and rushes towards me, catching me before I fall to the floor.

_She looks a lot like Jill, but is not Jill..._

"Someone call an ambulance!" She shrieks at a stunned photographer sitting in a nearby booth, clutching a cheeseburger.

I think his name is Adam, but I can't be sure.

The waitress leans over me. She is wearing a lot of Dior Pure Poison, and the strong scent makes me gag. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"John...Kramer..." I choke out. "My car...went off the road...lost control..."

"Sssh, don't talk." I feel a stab of annoyance; why ask someone a question and then tell them not to talk? She bundles me unceremoniously into the same booth as 'Adam'. I squint at the camera case – yup, his name is Adam.

"Don't move!" She calls as she hurries off to the pay phone.

_Yeah, as if I actually COULD move anyway..._

Adam is still staring at me. I glare back. "Do you want some cheeseburger?" He asks me. _What a stupid question._ I glare at him until he looks away.

Its then that it strikes me.

It's the year of the pig. Rebirth. _My_ rebirth. For some reason I find that hilarious and I burst out laughing. A pain in my chest reminds me of a broken rib somewhere and I wince. Adam looks at me oddly.

Somewhere the radio starts playing. The song plays in my mind even now, haunting my sleep.

_Someone once told me that you had to choose_

_What you win or loose_

_You can't win everything_

In more ways than one I have lost. The war with the cancer within me I've lost before I started, I lost the child I never had. But this rebirth gave me the chance for the one win I could have...peace.

I felt peace as I watched Cecil die, struggling with the barbed wire and blades at his wrists. I had given him a second chance, and he hadn't taken it. It was wrong, but I felt...happy that he would not go unpunished.

_Don't you take chances, might feel the pain_

_Don't you love in vain_

'_Cos love won't set you free_

Foolishly I believed that with this act I could redeem myself in Jill's eyes. I took a chance and saw her one more time. The words she spat at me, the hate and fear in her eyes as she realised what I had done.

Any love for me had gone. That hurt more than the cancer throbbing in my skull.

_I could stand by the side, and watch this life pass me by_

_So unhappy, but safe as could be..._

Safe. Safe from the FBI, the people that call me 'Jigsaw' because of the jigsaw shaped pieces I took out of those who did not wish to fill in the piece they were missing from their lives; their want for it.

But safety was with Jill, and Jill has thrown me out like the rest of the world.

_So what if it hurts me, so what if I break down?_

_So what if this world just throws me off the edge, my feet run out of ground?_

_I gotta find my place, I wanna hear my sound_

_Don't care about all the pain in front of me_

_Cause I'm just trying to be happy, yeah..._

They don't understand; I want to leave a legacy, something for people to remember me by.

I want to make a change.

I want people to have the happiness I never had, make them understand that their lives are the most important things they can possibly cling on to.

_Just wanna be happy, yeah..._

I want Jill to love me again. But some things you can't have...

_Holding on tightly, just can't let it go_

_Just trying to play my role_

_Slowly disappear, oh_

When I put Adam and Lawrence Gordon, the man who diagnosed me without a flicker of sympathy towards my doomed life, I lay among them pretending to be a corpse. The emotions shocked me. No, _I_ shocked me. The 'Jigsaw' side of me was curious and fascinated by their pain, and when Lawrence sawed his own foot off it gloated at the sight of blood.

I was scared by that. I had no idea how much darkness I had in me.

Besides, why wouldn't you cut your own foot off if your family's life was in danger? I would've gladly done that if it were Jill...

But this was my role in my rebirth; if I had to watch everything I once knew of myself succumb to the dark side of me as easily as the cancer was twisting and mutating, I would. I have...

_All these days I feel like they're the same_

_Just different faces, different names_

_Get me out of here_

I helped Amanda, I berated Hoffman, they fell in line with me: Amanda grudging but worshipping, Hoffman obedient but...unable to trust. Company however was lonely...but it made the countless names on the list grow fewer and fewer...

Too many names...and none of them was Jill...

_I can't stand by your side, oh no_

_Watch this life pass me by, pass me by_

_So what if it hurts me?..._

The last thing Jill said to me, the last time I talked to her – when I asked her to test Hoffman; I still didn't trust him, even less than Amanda, and she was...straying from the path – was basically that.

"_I don't want this, John..."_

"_I know..."_

It didn't hurt her to watch me go, the key still clutched in her hand. Maybe that was why I almost collapsed from the pain when I came back to our latest hideout.

Maybe for once it wasn't the cancer that was defeating me. Maybe it was because I missed Jill too much to carry on...

_So and it's just that I can't see, the kind of stranger on this road_

_But don't say victim_

_Don't say anything..._

Even after everything, I refuse to be called a victim. I refuse to be called a murderer either.

I just tried to make a difference.

Because my love didn't make a difference to Jill.

It was still my fault...

And now Amanda has failed the final test, and Hoffman has yet to be tested, and Jeff is looking down at me with the hatred of all those I tested, all those who screamed and died and never tested their new chance at life.

He lowers his gun and a smile curls at my lips; I'm going to live, I've won...

For once I've won...

_I wish Jill was here to see this..._

And then he raises the saw and I can hear his wife...Lynn, I think it was...I can't be sure now, even after the 'operation' the cancer kills my head...screaming, trying to stop him.

To save her life, not mine.

_Jill..._

The buzzing metal skims across my throat, and I play the tape recorder. I can't tell what Jeff is thinking right now when he realises that he has lost; I can't even hear my own words.

Somehow I feel...release. I'm not in any pain and the darkness is in front of me, waiting. I smile and step forward. I've lost but a really don't care anymore.

I lost when I lost Jill anyway.

The darkness surges forward and fills every single one of my holes.

The final piece of the Jigsaw. I grin at that.

And then there is nothing but peace.

_I just want to be happy..._

**********************************

**Well, there's the first part. This is actually my FIRST EVER STORY with chapters...GASP! I'm having trouble thinking of a song for Hoffman...ideas would be great, thanks...**

**Next up: Amanda...**


	3. Russian Roulette

**Sorry it's been a while, been away for a bit...enjoy part 2! Oh yes, the chapters are now named after the songs so if you want to you can look it up on YouTube.**

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**Amanda POV**

My life started and ended with a bang.

It started with the bang the police made barging through my apartment flat door, pinning me to the floor and arresting me for possessing illegal drugs.

I was actually relieved; they hadn't discovered what I actually had done...

You would think that my life began as a baby, like everyone else.

Wrong; I was in hell.

My father abused me, used me, hated me. My mum died of alcoholic poisoning when I was eight – I was told it was because of me.

Drugs and the knife helped me escape; when I was high I was untouchable, I was free, I could live.

And then I'd come crashing down, and the knife was the only thing to keep me clinging to the brief happiness I'd had.

Jill changed that. Kind, helpful, smiling Jill. She helped me more than anyone, brought the law against my father, gave a new home, a new life...

She stopped my drug addiction. I struggled, the demon within me tearing at my insides like a clawful of knives. I used knives to try to get it out, but one day her husband caught me. He was stronger than he looked and snatched the knife from my grasp; I struggled for a while but then burst into weakening, painful sobs.

He held me while I cried.

His name was John.

They helped me, and what did I give them in return?

I made Cecil rob Jill's clinic. And she lost her baby.

The guilt was unbearable, and I turned to the knife again to let it out.

****************************************

The jail I was placed in after my unjust trial was primitive and so were the people. I didn't belong there and they knew it; an easier target. I was back in my hell again; not knowing where the next blow would come from, flinching from every cutting remark.

I cut myself there too, but unlike John they didn't care.

The young blond woman in the same cell as me just quietly watched my torment. I couldn't care enough to find out her name.

One second I was in that hell, the next I was in another. The taste of metal and the red of the puppet's cheeks on the TV screen were so vivid, the screams of my cellmate tore through me as I stabbed him again and again to win the game...

My bloody fingers tore at the trap on my head and I ripped it off, throwing it on the floor. The 'reverse bear trap' snapped open; my jaw three seconds from being pulled apart from my skull, muscles unable to withstand the sharp pull.

I wailed and moaned, tears choking me, blurring my vision. A movement made me flinch, and the puppet moved out from the shadows. I cowered in a corner, whimpering.

"_Some people are so ungrateful for their life...not you...not anymore..."_

I was not ungrateful. I could never be ungrateful. But could I be grateful either...?

I ran from the warehouse, the cold refreshingly biting, reassuring me that my life was still caged within me.

******************************************

Blood covered my clothes.

No matter how hard I scrubbed I couldn't get rid of the stain.

As I sat down on my hard bed – the only item of furniture in my bedroom apart from a wardrobe and a bare bulb swinging from the ceiling – my shoulders shook from unrestrained sobs as I took my knife from my pocket.

The metal was my only friend; it ran its only finger over my skin, soothing me and hurting me at the same time, oblivious to the way it turned my skin from white to rose pink to blood red and blood coloured my skin.

And suddenly I realised.

_He_ was there.

The vague light from the yellow sunset cut lines across his face.

He knew. He knew what I'd done to his unborn child, the part I'd played in the manslaughter.

"Hello Amanda..."

His voice...I gasped as I realised where I'd heard it before...

The warehouse...the puppet...I'd escaped the hell he'd made me, and he was here to drag me back into it...

I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...

Please don't kill me...

_Take a breath, take it deep_

_Calm yourself he says to me_

"Do not be afraid..."

And then he explains to me his rules.

His offer.

I eagerly accept; I want to prove myself to him...

_If you play you play for keeps_

He doesn't know...that's enough for me.

***************************************

_Take the gun and count to three_

The first game I controlled was nearly the last. I took pity on Adam; I suffocated him so he wouldn't have to feel the numbness of bleeding to death.

I couldn't feel that numbness. With a shock I realised that I'd enjoyed it, the way he'd struggled beneath me as he realised I was not the person he was calling for, the power over life and death that throbbed in my veins.

You wouldn't know what it feels like. It's a burning triumph that burns in your veins, a smirk that curls at your lips when your victim shudders his last breath.

Game over.

But then I emerge, and John – Jigsaw – is waiting for me.

He's glaring, his ice blue eyes searing me like the knife I still used to let out the everlasting guilt.

_I'm sweating now, moving slow_

_No time to think, my turn to go_

"Emotionally, there can be nothing there." He snaps.

He's going to say that a million times before we're through, but I didn't know that then.

"Sorry..." The fear makes my voice come out in a mouse like squeak.

A mouse like squeak faked to perfection...

His eyes bore into me, but then he nods and walks away.

_You can see my heart beating_

_You can see it through my chest_

He knows. He knows what kind of monster I'm becoming, but he can't stop me.

No one can.

I feel powerful.

I feel..._alive_.

But I'm terrified...terrified of what he could still find out...

But I'm not leaving. I'm not backing out.

_And I'm terrified, but I'm not leaving_

_Know that I must pass this test_

Amanda Young does not back out of the hole she is digging for herself.

Even if it kills her.

It's not the way she is...

_So just pull the trigger..._

***************************************

For a change, I was powerless.

For a change, I could taste fear.

When he'd said that I had to meet death to be reborn, I didn't take him seriously.

I was nearly thankful for the needles in the pit plunging themselves into my skin; a porcupine gaining extra quills.

_Say a prayer to yourself_

I needn't have prayed; I made it out alive.

As he'd known too well.

He actually smirked when I walked in, dumping Daniel's unconscious body at his feet.

I hated him for the mirth he seemed to get out of my pain.

"Take a shower," John – no, _Jigsaw_; I would never acknowledge the fact that he was human because he wasn't – ordered, his eyes glancing over my bleeding body. "I have to introduce you to someone."

I was determined to hate whoever it was.

How was I to know it would be Hoffman?

*****************************************

When I came down after my shower, he was lounging in my chair. I was about to launch into my usual tirade of swearing and threats – prison does that to you – but then he turned round to see who it was, and...

All that came out of my mouth was a crackle of static.

Silence.

His eyes weren't as sharp as Jigsaw's, but they're dark, deep.

His hair was thicker and slightly longer than Jigsaw's framing a brooding, mysterious face.

He seemed completely at home here, his black overcoat slung over one of the drawing desks behind the chair.

He grins suddenly and it's like a knife has been slashed across my face...I'm red, blushing.

"I'm guessing you're Amanda Young..." His eyes flicker over me. "A bit _Young_ for this, no pun intended."

I closed my eyes to stop myself from hitting the bastard.

Or was it just to block out his face...?

_He says close your eyes, sometimes it helps_

"Amanda." Jigsaw had been lurking behind her; his voice made her jump. He stepped forward, circling them like a shark. "This is detective Mark Hoffman."

He sneered at the word detective. Hoffman glared at him and I felt a shudder of relief; there was no love lost between them.

My secret ally...

My secret crush...

Hoffman stretched out a gloved hand towards mine, his eyes hard like an iced over lake in the darkness of winter.

Hard, concealing, unreadable.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Young." His voice was laced with frost.

I fell so hard into the freezing waters of his eyes...

"Same here." I took his hand and shook it once. I could feel the warmth of his skin under the leather.

He nodded the same number of times. The acknowledgment froze my breath into my lungs.

Jigsaw walked to the door. "I have someone to meet." He said abruptly. As he passed me he hissed a sentence into my ear.

"The heart cannot be involved..."

A chill spread like fog through my body.

"What about yours, then?" I hissed back, knowing who he was going to see. He stiffened. I glared at him defiantly.

He left. Hoffman and I stayed.

He couldn't touch me.

Because he knew I was right...

Hoffman stood. "Amanda Young..." He rolled my name around his mouth. "Twenty three years old, attended Jill Tuck's drug clinic, was put on trial for possession of illegal drugs and put in prison for 13 months." He tilted my face so my eyes met his. I wanted to jerk my head from his hand so I didn't have to look into those eyes again.

"You were abused, weren't you?" He asked softly. I couldn't speak, so I nodded instead. His lips twitched and the blood rushed to my head.

He leaned in and his breath brushed my ear...

"That's not the only thing I know about you..."

My heart went cold.

_And then I have a scary thought_

No.

_No._

He _can't _know.

"What happened to John's child, Amanda?" He taunted me. Threatened me. "What happened at the drug clinic?"

I pull away, shocked and terrified. He's smiling again, but it's plotting, scheming.

Triumphant.

Power over my life and death.

"Just think what I could tell him..."

I reeled away. "You...you wouldn't..." I choked.

For insane reasons I felt betrayed.

His cruel smile told me everything I needed to know.

He would dare.

And Jigsaw would believe him.

_That he's here means he's never lost_

_And you can see my heart beating..._

"Goodbye Amanda." He walks past me and leaves. I remain, staring after him in panic and...something else...

He can see what I am too.

But he can't see my heart...

******************************************

I descended deeper into myself. Cutting was soon the only way to escape the sheer terror of Hoffman's threat.

I hated seeing him, hated working with him.

Hated him but loved him.

Marmite.

Eric Matthews was the first I took revenge on. He tried to bring me down by screaming after me as I left him to die.

"YOU'RE NOT JIGSAW!"

The problem is, I already knew that.

I'm not Jigsaw.

I never will be.

I never want to be.

He knew about my inescapable traps, the way I gloated as Kerry was ripped apart, but he was too weak to step in to stop me.

The cancer was taking him over.

And I was pleased with that.

I gladly kidnapped Lynn, I watched transfixed as Jigsaw nearly died in a spasm.

I even managed to pretend to care when Lynn drilled a hole in his skull to 'relieve the pressure'.

I enjoyed his pain.

And then I found the letter.

He was going to tell Jigsaw what I'd done if I didn't shoot Lynn.

I couldn't shoot Lynn; I'd learnt enough from Jigsaw to realise that disobeying his rules was fatal.

But what choice did I have?

_As my life flashes before my eyes_

_I'm wondering if I will ever see another sunrise_

Hoffman.

Hoffman, you _bastard._

She was pleading, tears streaming down her face.

Pleading for her life.

Usually I would enjoy this, but...

Her husband...

_So many won't get the chance to say goodbye_

John is pleading. It's the first time I've called him John in a long time. I looked into his face as he lay there and saw humanity written all over his face.

I regret what I have become...

_But it's too late to pick up the value of my life_

I'm sorry John.

I'm sorry Lynn.

Only now can I see my holes, my flaws, my weaknesses...

But it's too late.

I shot her, tears streaming down my face.

Just as Jeff stepped through the door.

And that was when my life ended.

With a bang from a gun.

I staggered, scrabbling my fingers over my throat to pull out the bullet.

It's too late though.

As I sink to my knees and John tells me of his game – _my_ game – I realise he was never too weak to stop me.

He was trying to give me a second chance which I didn't deserve.

And Hoffman had known that.

He'd known about the game.

Hoffman.

Hoffman, you bastard, I LOVE YOU!

But it's too late to say that. Too late to tell him.

_And you can see my heart beating..._

I'm going to die...

_You can see it through my chest_

Oh God, this is really it...

_And I'm terrified, but I'm not leaving_

He mouths 'Game Over' at me, and I realise...

He truly cared for me, and I'd let him down.

_Know that I must pass this test_

I crash forward; hell is waiting below me.

Kerry's face is laughing.

Eric is triumphant.

Power over life and death...

_So just pull the trigger_

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry...

So scared...

_Hoffman I-_

...

...

...

Static.

****************************************

**This chapter and the next chapter are dedicated to Kalika Barlow and all you other HoffmanAmanda shippers out there. LOVE YOU GUYS!!!**

**Oh wait...that kind of gives away who the next chapter is about...**


	4. Getting Away With Murder

**And now for my favourite character of the Saw movies...Hoffman.**

***************************************

**Hoffman POV**

I died when I first saw my sister's body.

She meant the world to me. When she was upset, I was there. When she missed out on the university she so desperately wanted to get into, I was the one who hugged her tears away.

Our parents didn't want to know. Most of the time they acted like we were invisible.

Until they were drunk. Then they noticed my sister.

They never saw me. Which was fine.

They never saw the way I comforted my sister.

"Mark, you don't always have to be there, you know." She whispered one night. Our parents had started screaming at each other again, and she had run into my room, scared out of her wits.

She didn't want to be hit again.

I hugged her close under the covers, feeling her tears on my neck. "That's what families do; they look out for each other."

Her head nodded as she fell asleep, despite herself.

Years later because of her I became a detective. I could see her face glowing up at me as I took my badge, and she hugged me tight afterwards.

"Mark, you beautiful bastard, I _told_ you you could do it!" She laughed.

"Angelina, I only made it because of you." I grinned over her shoulder at my fellow detective and friend, Peter Strahm. He grinned back and mouthed 'Well done!' at him before he too was enveloped by friends and family.

"No," She whispered. "You're stronger than that...I know that..."

I wasn't strong enough to tell her my doubts about her new boyfriend, Seth.

I wasn't there to stop him.

I wasn't there to stop him killing her.

The second I stepped into her bedroom and saw her lying there, the world just crumbled around my feet.

Her blood stained the sheets around her.

Pure white. Like her.

Her throat was slit like a pig's.

I struggled with the arms restraining me, stopping me from getting to her.

"Leave me alone...LEAVE ME ALONE!"

They let me go in the end. They would've had to anyway.

Nothing could've stopped me then.

I sank to my knees in front of her. Her head was tilted backwards, the slit in her throat wide and deep.

The sheets were curled around her body.

The colours of her skin and the sheet were indistinguishable.

I shakily pressed my mouth to her hand, stroked her hair one last time.

Her scent clung to my skin.

My sobs shook me, shook the hand I was holding so tightly.

And I sank into something like a coma.

****************************************

When you watch zombie films, you cower behind the sofa and want the hero to smash them into gory - definitely dead – pieces.

But you don't know how they feel. What makes them groan.

I had a firsthand experience.

You can hardly breathe, and your vision is like a very bad 1980s TV screen.

People who actually talk to you sound like they're at the bottom of a deep well, and your own voice when you do talk sounds like a frog croaking back.

You feel too tired to carry on.

You don't _want_ to carry on.

Really, the zombies must be pretty thankful when they're finally blasted into oblivion.

The only thing stopping me from actually casting myself into this endless oblivion was drink.

The hot fire of it hitting the back of my throat brought something back, something more..._alive_.

Human.

That was how I spent my whole time.

Drinking to stay alive.

Enough of it made me forget what I had become...what had made me become...

And then _she_ walked into the bar.

***************************************

She was young, blond; even through my blurry vision I could see that.

She sat next to me, and I realised she'd sat there every day for all the time I'd been there.

Every time.

"Hi..." She started hesitantly. "I'm...I'm Sally...I've been here for 5 months now..."

5 months...

Had it been that long ago...

"Do they let you stay in when they close or something?" I managed to say. She laughed, and I felt something I hadn't felt for 5 months.

Happiness.

She stayed and talked to me, and I found myself talking back.

I was coming out of the well.

As the bar closed, she looked at me curiously. "You seem like a great bloke...why are you wasting your time here?"

I look down at my pint of beer, and realised I hadn't even started drinking it. I pushed it away from me, the bubbles flat. "I...I lost something...a while ago..."

She held my face in her hands. Her eyes were brown, almost black. "Whatever happened, please...stop kicking yourself about it. You're stronger than that."

I turned away. "You don't know me..."

She turned my face back to hers so fast I felt my neck click. "Mark Hoffman, I've learnt more about you in the last few hours than you'll ever know, and I know you shouldn't be here...the holes aren't that deep, you know..."

I looked at her then. Fully looked at her. "What do you know about holes?"

Her voice was sad, her eyes wistful. "More than you'll ever know..." She smiled, leaned in.

"Get out of here, Mark," She whispered. "You don't belong here...you're too much of a bastard for that."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is this meant to be convincing me?"

"Just get going, you fool!" She laughed. "Get out there and get your life back."

I grinned and stood up. "Thanks, Sally."

I left.

I left and killed Seth.

****************************************

It wasn't instantaneous, it took a lot of planning, a lot of trips to D.I.Y stores.

But I made it.

And I had the joy of watching Seth die, see him screaming his last.

That was when I made my mistake.

I framed Jigsaw.

I cut a jigsaw piece out of Seth's body...and condemned myself.

Jigsaw wasn't too happy with what I'd done.

Understatement.

He _hated _me for it.

And I wasn't getting away with it...

*************************************

I was cautious for the first few days, expecting at any moment to be arrested.

But it never happened.

And I felt free.

And then I had to take the stupid lift.

I didn't have time to go for my gun; it was over in moments. The drug took its effect almost instantly, the syringe jerking out of my throat as a crumpled to the floor.

It's not a good experience, waking up to discover there's a gun stuck under your chin, ready to blow your brains out.

And he was there.

Jigsaw.

To say he wasn't very happy _is_ an understatement...

I argued as best I could, but he cut me down in my tracks.

"EVERYONE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE!"

He knew about my sister, but he didn't give a damn.

He blackmailed me, and my hands were tied.

My freedom was over.

He controlled my whole life.

A life I no longer wished to have...

******************************************

_Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness_

_I need to calculate what creates my own madness_

I sank back into my zombie state of mind, feeling nothing, wanting nothing.

At least I wasn't drinking; Jigsaw wouldn't allow that.

I was forced to watch his victims die, made to make their traps and watch them thrash in them until their last shuddery breath.

I hated him.

_And I'm addicted to your punishment_

_And you're the master, and I'm waiting for disaster_

And yet...I found it horribly addictive, like watching a horror movie and being so scared you're practically shitting yourself, and not being able to tear your eyes away from the screen.

It didn't change the fact he controlled me as easily as he did with the puppet.

It didn't change how much I wanted him to come crashing down as I looked on.

_I feel irritational, so confrontational_

I went back to that bar one more time, and Sally met me before I'd even stepped through the door.

"Mark, what have you done?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"I haven't done anything." I snapped. I felt strangely irritable, I wanted to hurt someone.

"Mark, I know you and –"

"You don't know me!" I snarled. "You don't know anything about me, so stop pretending." I turned to go.

"I care about you, Mark!" She called after me. I stopped. "I was sitting next to you every day for _five months_, I wanted to help you so much –"

I turned round. "Well, you're help isn't needed, thanks!" I spat the words into her startled face.

Her response startled me. She took a step forward and cupped my face in her hands, searching my eyes.

"You don't need to hide yourself away from everyone else." She said softly.

What exactly was I meant to say?

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder_

I pushed her away. "Back off, bitch!"

Her hurt expression snagged something in my heart.

I turned and walked away.

_It isn't possible to never tell the truth_

_But the reality is I'm getting away with murder_

I didn't look back.

_Getting away, getting away, getting away..._

*****************************************

Raining.

That was the one thing I can still remember from the day I met Amanda.

I slung my dripping coat over the drawing desk, taking care to put it over his carefully sketched plans for traps.

Slumped in a chair, I heard a noise behind me.

Turning round, expecting Jigsaw...I saw her.

Her short hair was wet, starting to frizz. Her eyes were outlined heavily in kohl and she regarded me with a cold, appraising stare.

I smiled awkwardly. "I'm guessing you're Amanda Young." I looked her over; slim, fit, but... "A bit _Young_ for this, no pun intended."

She just stared right through me. Not exactly the friendliest of people, then...

And then I realised where I'd seen her before.

At night.

Running away from a drug clinic.

Crying.

"_Ommigodommigodommigod..."_

She was the one that made Jigsaw loose his child.

The one that made all this happen.

I instantly hated her.

Jigsaw introduced us, and she remained oblivious to my glares.

When Jigsaw was leaving, he hissed something at Amanda. Amanda hissed something back.

They glared at each other.

At least someone else hated him as much as I did...

When he left, I told her all I knew about her.

Midway through, something made me pause. I tilted her head back and looked at her face...

Her eyes reminded me of someone...

My sister...

"You've been abused, haven't you?" I forget my hatred for her for a second, stroke the side of her face.

Then I remember through the new emotion coursing through me what she's done and it's like popping a bubble.

So I hiss in her ear what her darkest secret is...

Her expression made me want to laugh.

She must've thought I was going to blackmail her...

I did in the end; it got her out of the way.

I hated her...

I _did_...

And yet afterwards, after I'd got out alive and Amanda and Jigsaw lay dead in that clinical room in the warehouse, I felt guilt...

"_Mark, what have you done?"_

I silently told her to shut up. But her voice was insistent.

****************************************

_I drink my drink and I don't even want to_

_I think my thoughts when I don't even need to_

I wanted to give it all up, move into my freedom.

But then Strahm realised who I was working with.

Strahm...

My only friend...

In our final confrontation he pushed me into the glass box I had constructed to lower him to safety.

I was the one who was meant to be crushed to death.

I was the one who made that trap with that one intention.

And fiery, hot headed Strahm unwittingly saved me.

I never wanted to be saved.

And I had to watch him being crushed to death instead of me.

_I never look back 'cause I don't even want to_

_And I don't need to, because I'm getting away with murder_

_I feel irrational..._

To make things worse, his ex partner Perez turned out to be alive.

I was a doubt away from being found out.

Then I met Jill.

_Somewhere between happiness and sadness_

She gave me five envelopes...Jigsaw had given them to her to give to me.

I was forced to set up another game.

_I need to calculate what creates my own madness_

Forced to kill Perez and Erickson and use Strahm's severed hand to frame him for my other games.

Forced to watch Williams dissolve from the inside out...

_And I'm addicted to your punishment_

And what good did it do me?

_And you're the master_

Jill was my new master.

And I was her first victim.

Jigsaw wanted me to be tested again; he'd known about the blackmail.

The letter I'd scribbled to Amanda.

And he wanted me to pay.

He still owned my soul; a small matter like death couldn't stop him.

And I was screaming, tearing at the trap round my head.

_You bastard, Jigsaw..._

I jammed the front part of the trap into the bars of the door; just in time.

The reverse bear trap activated.

The bars stopped it from ripping my whole jaw off, but...

The pain was excruciating; the right side of my mouth was ripped away, muscles torn.

_And I am craving this disaster_

I screamed at the ceiling, blood gurgling in my throat.

******************************************

I sit here in this warehouse so many months later.

Somehow doctors managed to reattach the side of my mouth, but the scar remains.

It hurts trying to smile.

Not that I have any reason to anymore.

_I feel irrational, so confrontational_

The FBI knows who I am now. I bet they wish they hadn't fixed my mouth now...

More like that they'd broken my back instead.

So I sit here now, in this warehouse, alone.

Again.

So close to the end now, I can actually hear the rain pattering outside.

The FBI will be here soon, but not soon enough.

I'll be gone, but not gone.

The gun is heavy in my hand.

Jigsaw wouldn't like this; that just makes me want to do it even more.

Forbidden rollercoaster.

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder_

I raise the gun to my head.

And pause.

I realise that all this time the face I've been thinking of is Amanda's...

And then I realise the truth I've been hiding from myself all this time.

And I'm laughing with tears running down my face and my mouth in as much pain as my heart...

_It isn't possible to never tell the truth_

I love Amanda.

I loved Amanda.

And she loved me.

God, I'm such a bastard...

But it makes this easier, though...

Seeing a glimpse of Amanda's face before an eternity in hell, that will be worth it.

A hole filled.

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder_

I close my eyes and force the barrel of the gun into my mouth, wincing as it makes the scar scream and strain to break open again.

The metal is cold, sharp on my tongue.

Soothing.

I take a deep breath and prepare to pull the trigger.

Angelina and Amanda's faces flash in front of me.

She looks so beautiful...I never could admit myself to say that.

_Getting away, getting away, getting away..._

I hear her voice; it sounds clear, focused.

"Mark..."

My finger begins to curl closed.

"_Mark...WAIT!_"

My eyes snap open.

I look round...

***************************************

**Oooooo, CLIFFHANGER! So, who d'ya think the person is? Sawish twist at the end of this, so BE PREPARED! Put on your comment who you think it is...the bets are on...**


	5. The Mixtape

**HA HA HA! I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer for this cliff-hanger to become…un-cliff-hangered…here's a word from some of the other characters: one chorus each.**

* * *

**Adam POV**

_Now you're gone_

"NO! YOU BASTARD, NO!"

I should know by now that screaming is useless, pointless.

I'm dizzy from blood loss, from the hole in my shoulder.

Weak from pulling at my chains, from the hole in my heart.

As I slump against the wall and a sob builds in my scream torn throat, I think of Lawrence…

_I realise my love for you was strong_

It's only now he's not here that I realise that I completely loved him.

His face…

His cool, calm voice…

The electricity that had nothing to do with the electric shocker Jigsaw used on me when he grasped my arm, pressed his forehead close to mine…

I really thought he was going to kiss me.

Wanted him to…

_I keep waiting here by the phone_

Lawrence's mobile is dead now.

Dead as I soon will be.

But he said he'd be back…

He promised…

Just one kiss…

_With the pictures hanging on the wall_

In my mind there are pictures of Lawrence on the walls, sobbing, shouting, screaming as he cut his own foot off to help his family…

He was so brave…

I never had that bravery…

When I comforted him I didn't even have the courage to just brush my lips across his forehead…

A ghost kiss, nothing more.

_Is this the way it's meant to be_

_Only dreaming that you're missing me_

Lawrence, I miss you.

Lawrence, I love you.

Lawrence…

Just come back so I can love you again.

Your face is already blurring in my mind; your eyes aren't as sharp, your smile not as bright.

_And I'm waiting here at home_

_I'll be crazy now you're gone_

I'm going mad…

Is it just my murky mind, or has the door opened?

Is it just my eyes, or is there someone leaning over me?

I know who it is.

I know, and I smile as his hands brush over me, my body.

"Lawrence. You came back…" My words are incomprehensible, even to my own ears. I'm talking, but I don't know what I'm saying.

Soft lips brush against mine and I fall silent, letting Lawrence make the first move, my heart pounding.

Instead something smashes over my face.

I'm dizzy.

I can't breath.

This isn't Lawrence.

Suddenly I don't care.

I'm drifting, floating in a world being cracked by light and darkness.

I'm free.

My heart should hurt because Lawrence didn't keep his promise.

Didn't come back for the kiss I wanted to give him.

But it's alright now.

I'm in a greater doctor's care…

* * *

**Lawrence POV**

"Adam…"

Empty words in an empty space, with an empty seat on the sofa which I sit on in an empty house, an empty silence.

Empty.

Except for love.

"_Adam…_"

Oh, and heartbreak. No chance of forgetting the heartbreak…

_When you go away I count the steps that you take_

_Do you see how much I need you right now?_

Adam's dead.

He didn't make it.

It was the first thing I found out, after the blur of pain and noise and light and darkness…

It was the first thing they had to tell me when I came round, my foot reattached to my leg, but leaving me with a permanent limp.

They had to; I wouldn't rest till I found out what had happened to him.

When they did though, it hurt so much that although I wanted to rest, I couldn't.

I kept visualising his sarcastic nature, his sharp, quirky grin, the way his flesh had moulded into mine as I'd pressed him close as he'd sobbed, blood and dirt and exhaustion covering us like a blanket.

If only it were, that it could prevent the all seeing, all too obvious eyes of the cameras.

If it had, I would have chanced that one kiss…

Just that one…

But warm lips don't bring cold ones to life, and I'm only left with my tears.

_When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you_

When I came home, even Alison could see it wasn't her I wanted.

That night, when she tried to make up for long lost time, to give me a chance to get everything right after all I'd gambled, my body was stiff and unyielding against hers.

I looked at her, and felt nothing.

And in the darkness as she lay there, not touching me, she finally voiced her thoughts.

"Lawrence, this isn't working."

I was grateful for the darkness; it covered my tears.

_When you're gone, the face I came to know is missing too_

Within weeks she was gone, Diana with her.

Another face that had left me; I got fired from my job a few weeks later.

It wasn't a surprise, somehow. I couldn't concentrate on anything but my rapidly blurring memories of Adam.

Was that really his smile, his tone, his face?

Was that really the memory of his touch, or was I mixing it up with Alison?

And now I sit here alone on this plain faded white sofa in a now plain world and realise Jigsaw never did anything for me.

Apart from Adam.

Adam…

_All the words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it OK_

Silence replaces any words that I could ever say; the cold metal makes bloodstains on the white sofa.

Alison wouldn't have liked this; I'm making such a mess…

My body is crying me a river, but I really can't care.

I lie back and close my eyes as the blood loss again makes my world blurry.

I focus on a face, _his_ face.

Adam Faulkner, I owe you a kiss…

_I miss you_

And then as my world fades the face becomes real and the mouth that meets mine is hot, vivid, real; mine to share forever.

And I realise I never really forgot how he looked like; he was in front of me all along.

And his kisses fill my holes.

* * *

**Zepp POV**

I finally have complete power.

It wasn't enough being a hospital worker; I didn't have the power over anything.

It wasn't the power I craved; it was the recognition that came with it.

But the only person that got that was Lawrence Gordon.

It made my blood boil; Lawrence Gordon, the one who could pull the strings over life and yet fuck his 'assistant' on the sly whilst cheating on his wife?

I found myself asking in my head: Why should he have the best of life when he treats it like shit?

Why should he live?

And that scared me.

Scared me more than I thought I could be…

There must've been some massive hole in my life for me to have become this.

_It's scratching on the walls, in the closet, in the halls_

_It comes awake and I can't control it_

If only it had remained in my head…

But then I met John Kramer.

We never actually talked; a nod, a look.

But then I'm in his game.

Because he knew about my desire for power, and he let me have it in the worst way possible.

I can practically feel the poison rushing through me with every throb of my veins.

But maybe that's the mad rush of pleasure at the power I've been given.

Or the fear at what I'm feeling.

Because – watching Lawrence and Adam struggling to survive in that bathroom – I enjoy what I've been given.

_Hiding under the bed, in my body, in my head_

_Why won't someone save me from this, make it end_

Absentmindedly, I glance at the clock on the wall.

It's 6 o'clock.

Shit, that quickly?

Time flies when you're having fun…

I shiver as the monster in me growls with pleasure.

Anticipating my kill.

Oh shit, what have I become?

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

Though eager, I walk slowly out to –

To be confronted with Alison and Diana Gordon escaping.

Diana squeaks in fear.

I snarl and lunge forward, hoping to stop them.

And then someone steps round the corner and begins firing.

The mobile is still calling; I leave it.

Welcome to hell, Doctor Gordon…

There is no chance to kill them; the best way out is to shoot and run.

Which is what I do.

The monster in me moans with disappointment as I race out the door.

All in good time…

_I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

Speeding has its advantages; I arrive at the warehouse in no time at all.

The monster in me realises what I mean to do and purrs.

Picking up the gun, I walk through the labyrinth of passages until I come to the bathroom.

Lawrence is the first thing I see, grimy and scared, the horror widening his eyes as he sees the gun.

I almost grin.

Serves him right.

_I, I feel like a monster_

He tries to shoot me with the gun near the body I know is John's.

Watching, waiting.

I'm glad; I can show him what I've become.

I aim.

"Please…" Lawrence's plea is a cracked whisper.

The monster in me breaks its holdings and takes over completely.

"It's the rules!" It growls, and I know John is listening.

_I, I feel like a monster_

And it forgets Adam.

He slams into us both and raises the toilet lid, again and again, on our heads.

They love each other; that much is true.

The power of love is always underestimated…

_I, I feel like a monster_

I surrender to death.

For what kind of person allows a monster to live?

* * *

**Jill Tuck POV**

It hurts.

I sit here at my desk in my office and the pain still rips my heart apart.

John is dead.

My loving, caring John, the one who always smiled, always made me laugh.

The one I always loved.

The murderer murdered.

That's what they said in the papers about the man I loved.

Love.

A public service they called it.

If only they knew…

If only they knew him before his change, why he changed, how he changed.

If only they knew that it really was my fault.

_This is the hardest story that I have ever told_

_No hope, no love, no glory, happy endings gone forever more_

It began and ended when I lost the baby.

_I_ lost the baby.

It was no-one's fault but mine.

_My_ drug clinic, _my_ patients, _my_ complete dumbness to give in to Cecil's lies, to let _me_ be threatened.

_My_ fault that I stood too close to the door when he came out, that it banged so hard into _my_ stomach that Gideon within _me_ juddered, began to melt into nothingness…

He blamed me.

John blamed me, and I punished myself for it.

I left him so he could find someone else, someone who could make the right choices.

Instead John became Jigsaw, and I found myself looking into eyes I couldn't see through anymore.

Eyes that didn't laugh.

Eyes that didn't love.

"What have you turned into?" The shocked question left me before I could stop myself.

His eyes told me the answer.

_Whatever you made me into._

Frankenstein.

I was Frankenstein.

And now he's dead, and I continue working at a stupid drug clinic which now has no meaning to me, no proper cause.

_I feel like I'm wasted, and I'm wasting every day_

Sit here knowing I'm the reason people are suffering, that the darkness within me has spread like a malevolent fire, roaring with pleasure as I made the trap for Hoffman and watch him scream through blood at a blank ceiling.

It was what John wanted.

The problem is…I thought…

I thought he would come back to love me.

But it's like north and south on magnets.

I reached for him, he pushed me away.

A forever invisible barrier separating me from love and living and those nights where nothing ever mattered but him…

A blond woman walks in; it must be my next client, but I don't remember her name.

Don't care to.

She knows mine; everyone does.

The media tore everything private from me like a savage rapist and sprawled it on pages for all to see.

People don't trust me.

Men don't love me.

John…

_This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending_

_No hope, no love, no glory_

_No happy ending_

The woman is still talking, but if I strain to hear through the thick fog that clouds my ears I can hear her tone is concerned.

And she reaches out and touches my arm.

The tenderness of it leaves me reeling.

Emotions rise in me like floodwaters, floodwaters locked behind closed doors which have been unlocked with that touch.

John…the way his smile touched me more than his words or hands ever could…

I break, the waters pouring out. Slumping forward in my chair, the young woman catching me as I sob noisily, unable to breathe as my grief finally comes through.

_This is the way that we love, like its forever_

_Then live the rest of our life but not together_

I cry for the love I lost, the love I still have, the love I still want back.

I cry for John and the holes that separated us all.

* * *

**Eric Matthews POV**

The only thing I find funny about this is Hoffman's expression.

He looks shit scared; I know how he feels.

Then again, he's not the one dangling by his neck over some massive block of ice.

And as far as I know, he hasn't got anything else to fight for.

To live for.

Daniel…

The timer is ticking down, and soon I'll be free.

I need to find Daniel…

_Won't you just hold on for a while_

The last time I talked to him, I left him hating me and I him.

He's my _son_.

And as far as I know, he still hates me.

_Please don't give up on me tonight_

The last time I saw him, it was on the monitors in Jigsaw's lair as we busted in to arrest him and put him away for good.

That was before I found out my son was involved in one of his games.

All the while as we were talking my anger was bubbling to the surface like magma to a crater, spurred on by my fear.

Kerry could tell what was going on; she always did.

That's why I…respected…her.

But it didn't stop me exploding in the end.

I mashed him up, made him take me down to where Daniel was, and entered alone.

_Coz I'm on my way, I chased the day_

That was my mistake.

Because I had no idea that Amanda Young was Jigsaw's new apprentice.

Amanda Young; the woman I'd framed for possessing illegal drugs.

She chained me in the dark, dirty bathroom, with dead bloated bodies rotting quietly around me as my only companions.

Left me to rot with them.

I smashed my own foot to survive; I jumped on her from behind as she left and fought for survival, for Daniel.

But I lost, and I was dragged back into captivity.

But it didn't stop me from believing I could get out of this hell.

I had to.

Have to.

For Daniel.

_And I'll keep running all night_

_I just won't rest to catch my breath_

And now I'm here, and the timer is saying that there are thirty seconds to go before I can be free.

_We_ can be free.

And I realise that it's not just for Daniel.

It's for Kerry.

_I will run every red light_

_To get to you_

10 seconds.

Even Hoffman looks relieved.

9.

The guy that's trapped us here looks scared; he's screaming.

8.

"_Don't come through the door!"_

7.

I can hear Rigg crashing towards us.

He thinks he's going to save us all.

But he's wrong.

Unless he stops, we're doomed.

6.

Hoffman's eyes flicker to mine, and somehow I know then.

He knows.

He knows about this and his eyes are sorry for what is about to happen.

5.

What can't happen.

And I realise that we both have holes.

4.

I need to get to Daniel.

Shots are being fired.

3.

_No I will get to you_

Three more seconds and I'll survive.

Relief is enormous.

_No I will_

2-

And he comes through the door and I've lost.

Machinery grinds and a tear slides down my cheek.

Game over.

_Get to you_

I'm sorry Daniel-

Something heavy strikes my head, and Daniel's face shatters like glass.

Like ice.

And then there is nothing.

* * *

**Kerry POV**

"Hello Kerry." The voice is chillingly familiar.

I know where I am.

I know what's going on.

And I know I'm in his game.

Surprisingly, I'm not all that scared.

I'm actually grateful.

And I'm remembering why...

_Notice me, take my hand_

"Kerry, this is Eric Matthews. He's going to be your new partner for the next few years."

The words that changed my life. My family was dead, my relationships DOA, friendships zero.

And then he came into my life.

Eric Matthews.

He was cocky, always with a cutting reply ready for any occasion.

Not good looking, but cheeky, looking younger than a single father should.

That's when my crush started.

Just touching his hand made me start to blush.

Particularly awkward when getting coffee.

_Why are we strangers when our love is strong_

And then there was that raid.

That stupid, _stupid_ raid.

And Jigsaw, that _bastard_, knew.

He knew about the way I'd covered up Eric's temper, the people he'd set up.

Amanda Young included.

Poor Amanda Young...

No wonder Eric went with him.

No wonder he's now probably dead.

And it's all my fault; I should have told him what I knew.

And that's why I'm here.

Because, as the puppet says, the only thing I want now is to be with my family.

My only family.

Not my heritage; my love.

My crush.

Eric...

_Why carry on without me?_

_And everytime I try to fly I fall without my wings_

I've never really forgiven myself for the part I played in Eric's disappearance.

I actually started talking to the corpses; crazy or what?

But then again, if I hadn't I wouldn't have realised that the victim – although in a Jigsaw trap – didn't have Jigsaw's MO.

He was in an inescapable trap.

Jigsaw was not alone.

I was; I am.

_I feel so small_

_I guess I need you baby_

The TV fizzles off; the games have begun.

I finally pluck up the courage to plunge my hand into the jar of acid.

It was like a thunder storm, but the noise came before the light.

A hiss before a bright bolt of pain shot through my arm as my lower arm began to dissolve.

I scream and frantically scrabble for the key; I find it and gasp with relief.

The acid is clouded red when I pull my hand out, but it's ok.

I'm almost out.

I've almost won.

I fumble with the padlock and it springs open; I grin and pull at my trap, eager to go.

Nothing happens.

It remains lodged.

"No…_no_…"

I'm sobbing at the unfairness of it.

DOA: Dead On Arrival.

Game over.

_And everytime I see you in my dreams I see your face; you're haunting me_

Footsteps.

A red T-Shirt.

I look up and see her face, a triumphant smirk on her face.

Amanda Young.

"_You_…"

I cease my struggles; justice is being served.

And Eric has had – or will have – his.

_I guess I need you baby_

I grip the chains and prepare for death.

The pain as my chest is ripped apart is not as sharp as I thought it would be.

There's already a hole in my chest…

I drop my arms in surrender, my head falls forward.

And there is nothing.

* * *

**Rigg POV**

Running and running out of time.

Thinking before jumping; in my case jumping before thinking.

This has happened so many times before, but this time I'm going to save someone.

_Time is all I fear, that's why I just keep running_

_The quest for love was all that you and I held dear_

I couldn't save Kerry, save Sing, save Tapp…

Save any of the victims of Jigsaw.

No point in mentioning Eric; in truth I hate him.

He is the reason that, when we had Jigsaw by the skin of his teeth, he slipped from our grasp like a snake.

That's why I hate him.

He caused more people to die.

_With the beat still in your head and a good book by your bed_

_We will survive_

Crashing down this corridor, I remember the last time I'd been in the office.

Hoffman had sent me home, and I was enraged at the embarrassment.

An officer of my rank sent home! I could've killed Hoffman then…

I could still kill him…

Because if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be in this hell of a mess…

_Someday are we going to wake up_

_A little bit older, are we out of time time time_

My first trap, the person I saved I had to kill…

The second, I watched a man being ripped apart…

The next, I left a woman to help herself or bleed to death – her dead husband strapped to her back…

And now I'm running to maybe save someone…

To help…

I think of my girlfriend and the way she left me to go to her parents 'for a while…'…

I have the feeling it's the beginning of the end, the decline in our love…

And I need to do something to stop that from happening.

I need to survive.

I need to help others survive before I can survive before I can let my relationship with her survive…

_I know that if we ever break up_

_We'll find a way to make up in the fullness of time time time_

I'm nearly there.

Shots are fired but they don't stop me. I feel like Superman – saving the world.

Only I'm not and when I crash through the door and see Eric's shocked face I realise if I was a 'hero' I'd just made the worst mistake ever.

The two blocks of ice swing down and crush his skull.

Staring blankly at the space, numb shock becomes sudden fury as I see the man who has done this.

The one with the gun.

Yelling, I shoot him…

And then Hoffman stood from where he'd been chained.

I look at him.

He looks at me, a smirk on his face.

And just before he shoots me, I realise that he is the one who did this.

The one who could save me.

Because I need to be saved from my need to save.

I raise my hands in a silent plea…he shoots me all the same.

And I die with the same flaw I always had, a bullet cold in my chest – I'm out of time…

* * *

**Jeff POV**

Forgiveness doesn't come easily.

I'm looking at him and it doesn't come.

I don't think it ever will.

My son is dead, my wife soon will be.

Part of that is because of him.

And forgiveness – no matter what tests I have just come through, have survived – is not the thing I can ever give.

_Oh it tears me up_

_I try to hold on but it hurts too much_

_I try to forgive but it's not enough_

_To make it all ok_

Lynn is trying to say something; if it's 'I love you', I don't want to know.

We both know it's a lie; Dylan's death has stretched our love too thinly for that.

And if that's what Jigsaw wants, for us to get back together, then it's a bit late for that.

Because it's far too late.

_You can't play on broken strings_

And call me cold, call me heartless, but I don't particularly care about those people who died in the traps when I lived.

They allowed my son to die.

They let the man who did it get away with it.

Why do they deserve forgiveness?

_You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel_

_I can't tell you something that ain't real_

I'm tired…so tired…

I look at Jigsaw's face, and I see tears.

Tears for Amanda, who I shot, killed.

The woman who shot Lynn.

And I decide.

I put my hand on his fragile chest.

"I forgive you." I mumble.

He looks up, surprised.

Whatever he was expecting, I don't think it was that.

His lips crack in a triumphant smile.

And I crack too.

I pick up the circular saw and turn it on.

His smile withers, fades.

Lynn is screaming at me now.

"JEFF! JEFF, NO!"

I don't care.

The spinning blade slices through Jigsaw's throat.

There is no shock, no gasps for air.

Just a jerk of a finger and his voice crackling on a tape.

And then the truth is told.

He has my daughter.

He is the one responsible for all my pain.

And forgiveness was my only path out.

_Oh the truth hurts and lies worse_

I gaze hopelessly into Lynn's screaming face.

And I realise I still love her.

I step towards her to…I don't know what to do…

And her head is blown apart by the trap around her neck.

I stare blankly at the empty hole where her head had been.

No…_no_…

The door opens behind me and I whip round.

A young man is standing there; he has a gun.

Jigsaw's apprentice for sure.

I lunge at him. "_Where is my daughter?_"

Three shots.

Three bullets.

Three hits to the chest.

_How can I give anymore_

_When I love you a little less than before?_

I slump, and I feel peace.

For the first time in a long time, I forgive.

I forgive this stranger.

Because I'm so tired.

So very tired…

* * *

**Lynn POV**

I'm scared.

I'm going to die.

Jeff…

_I wish I could tell you what my heart does feel_

_But I can't find the words, no_

Even when I was kidnapped by Amanda, forced to do surgery on Jigsaw's skull, shot by Amanda, I wasn't as scared as this…

_I wish I could tell you I'm not scared but still_

_Guess it would sound so wrong, no_

Somehow I knew why I was chosen.

I had cheated on my husband, the man standing right in front of me.

Jeff…

But did we really love each other?  
The way Jigsaw talked, he made it sound so simple…

But it isn't.

_I just have to love once again_

_So baby please forgive if somehow I stumble_

He doesn't understand.

He doesn't get that because of his actions I'm going to die.

But then, Jeff could never forgive.

He couldn't forgive me.

And that's how we ended up here; two miserable people about to end their own two miserable lives.

Even Jigsaw should have seen that.

That there are too many holes in our love to ever patch it over.

_You know I wish I could tell you what my heart does feel_

_But I can't find the words, no_

"_Jeff!_" The words are desperate.

He half turns, and I can tell the words of the tape have changed him.

He wants to fix the holes.

But then it's too late.

The trap goes off.

Game

Over.

* * *

**Britt POV**

_I'm holding on your rope got me ten feet off the ground_

For the millionth time I wake up screaming.

Ashley.

Charles.

Luba.

Always waiting to carry me off to hell…

My thrashing arms are caught by something; I scream again.

"Jesus, Britt…"

It's Mallick. Thank God, it's Mallick.

Sobbing, I lean against his chest.

"For God's sake Britt!" He stands and walks to the window, breathing hard.

I stare at his back, trying to avoid looking at his arm…what's left of his arm…

I remember the cut of the saw and I shiver, gripping my own damaged arm.

"How many times do I have to have you snivelling for attention?" He finally explodes. "You think it was any less fucking terrifying for me?"

I only part listen to his rant; we've done this all before.

Been there, done that, got the bloody t-shirt…

_And I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make a sound_

We know the drill.

He'll yell at me for ages, blaming me for everything when we both know it was both our faults.

He'll storm from the apartment, slamming the door, and be out for hours.

I'll lie here on the bed, sobbing.

He'll come back and there'll be no apologies, no make-up sex.

Just lying here on the bed, staring at the ceiling before falling asleep in each other's arms.

_You tell me that you need me then you go and cut me down but wait_

Just this once, I wish we could apologise for everything we do to each other.

But we can't.

Because we already know that apologies do no good...

_You tell me that you're sorry didn't think I'd turn around_

The one time he tried, I cut him off.

Apologies can't do anything.

They can't undo what we did.

Why we're still alive.

The people we killed for survival.

So do we really deserve to be alive?

Do we really deserve to have won the game?

Because guilt can't undo anything, and even the Jigsaw Killer must know that.

_And say that it's too late to apologise_

_It's too late_

And even though it's killing what we could've had, we deserve this.

_I said it's too late to apologise_

_It's too late_

And that's why we go through this routine over and over again.

And it's how we wait for hell.

* * *

**Perez POV**

They say everyone has the 'peak' point in their life.

They have the best moment they could have and then it all goes downhill from there.

This was true for me.

But I didn't quite get to the best part.

That would have been actually telling Strahm that I loved him.

But I never did that...

We spent most of our time hanging around with the other Homicide team members.

Eric.

Kerry.

Rigg.

Tapp.

Sing.

And Hoffman.

But throughout that whole time, I never said...

And then it was just me and Strahm.

And Hoffman.

Because everyone else had been killed…

_She says we've got to hold on to what we've got_

_It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not_

To be honest, it was pretty scary.

We still had no idea about where the Jigsaw Killer was, or who he was…yet…

But I still had Strahm, and though he didn't know it, he still had me.

_We've got each other and that's a lot for love_

_We'll give it a shot_

And then that puppet blew up in my face.

I should've learned from experience; should've stayed back…

But then there was a burning sensation in my face as the shrapnel hit me, and I was falling backwards.

He caught me. God knows, he always caught me.

Leaning back in his arms with his mouth screaming words I couldn't hear so close to mine, I thought that this wasn't such a bad way to die…

I recovered. I survived.

But Strahm had disappeared.

They said the Jigsaw killer was dead, and he had been proven to be his accomplice.

I questioned this instantly; I knew that man too well for that.

I questioned everything I had been told, questioned until I got answers.

And I was so close…

_Whoooooaaaa, we're halfway there_

_Whoooaaa, living on a prayer_

Erickson helped out a lot…I think he liked Strahm too.

No-one knew much about him – he spent too long shut away from everyone else.

Which in the end was a shame…he was a great guy.

We didn't deserve what we got.

It wouldn't really have mattered; I already knew somewhere that Strahm was dead.

And even before we unscrambled the tape, I had my suspicions about Hoffman.

Which were kinda confirmed when he killed Erickson and started stabbing me.

_Take my hand we'll make it I swear_

_Whooaaaa, living on a prayer_

It hurt, but it just made me angry.

All those times…

He was even fucking friends with Strahm!

"Who else knows about me?" He hissed.

He was shit scared; I was glad.

"Everyone…" I hissed back.

The look on his face…

And then I died.

I guess you can't have it all…

* * *

**Strahm POV**

This, I think, is one of the shittiest situations I've ever been in.

Of course, nothing really tops walls closing in around you to crush you, but hey.

It's a bit worse when you realise you've basically shunned the best way to get out alive.

Then again, I think I had my reasons.

When you find out your friend who you've trusted most has turned out to be the monster you are searching for, you don't really trust them do you?

Especially when he's the one that's killed – killing – the person you really care about.

Lindsey Perez…

But there's no point in thinking about that now; I had absolutely no chance.

Better think about surviving.

Again.

_Do or die you'll never make me_

_Because the world will never take my heart_

I look at Hoffman in the glass coffin. "_How do you open it?_" I scream through the barrier between us.

He grins infuriatingly.

Bastard. Motherfucking BASTARD…

Why the hell was I friends with _him_?

And now he was relying on me to die to keep his secret safe?

The one where he is carrying on Jigsaw's work?

No fucking chance, 'mate'…I'm getting out.

_Though you try you'll never break me_

_We want it all; we want to play this part_

Erickson suspects me; that much I know.

All my snooping around must've done it.

It's a shame I didn't think to tell someone what I'd found out before coming here.

I guess I _am_ too headstrong.

But Hoffman is getting credit for things he hasn't done; a so-called hero.

Which makes me even more determined to get out.

I fire some shots at the coffin; the glass doesn't break.

Dammit.

A bullet bounces off the side and rips across my calf.

That's going to leave a pretty big scar…

_Won't explain or say I'm sorry_

_I'm not ashamed, I'm gonna show my scar_

_Give a cheer for all the broken_

Something breaks; it's the light.

DamnbuggerbuggerSHIT…

I take a chance and grab the grill near the ceiling, kicking at it with my legs.

I see Hoffman close his eyes, still smiling.

Preparing for my end.

NononoICAN'TFUCKINGDIE!!!

_Listen here because it's only_

Please God no…

My arm snaps; I scream.

I think frantically.

Weirdly, I think I'm too young to die.

And I think of Perez.

Lindsey Perez.

_I'm just a man, I'm not a hero_

_I'm just a boy who wants to sing his song_

_Just a man, I'm not a hero_

_I_

I hope Perez keeps going.

_Don't_

Because otherwise no-one will know the truth.

_Care!_

And I will never get justice…

* * *

_We'll carry on, we'll carry on_

_And though you're dead and gone believe me; your memory will carry on_

_We'll carry on_

_And though you're broken and defeated, your weary widow marches on_

* * *

**Had to add on that chorus. That took AGES!!!**

**Mostly because I had no idea what to write or which song to choose for some of them, but hey…**

**If you can think of any better songs to use for any of the characters included (or not) add them in your comment.**

**And here's a quiz: in your comment put the song names AND BAND NAMES down. And btw, the Lynn song is translated FROM FRENCH!!! MWA HA HA!!!**

**Right, cliff-hanger solved next…guess who it is…? Actually, put that down in your comment too.**

**With all those reasons to comment, please comment NOW!!!**


	6. Bad Boys

**Well, I hope to get this on by Christmas, so MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Unless It's already gone past New Year, in which case…it's belated. I hope everyone had a good Christmas…anyway, enjoy!!!**

* * *

**Sally POV**

Hello. My name is Sally, and I was a drug addict.

I guess you must be confused…why start with this one damning sentence?

Well, it was more where my story began.

And how I met Mark Hoffman.

But more about that later…

I'll begin with what basically began the beginning.

I was a waitress down at a sleazy, rather run down greasy spoon café. It wasn't the kind of place I'd wanted to work at; I'd had such dreams…

But then I was lost in a sea of debt and had to come crawling back to my hometown.

The girl with the big city dreams reduced to working at a café in the middle of nowhere; I hoped I would never have to see my friends like this – the embarrassment.

As usual, there were hardly any customers.

Well, one: a freelance photographer called Adam.

Quite good looking, but after a few attempts I gave up. Knowing my luck he was probably gay.

And that was when a man staggered into the café.

Blood; that was the first thing I registered.

He fell and I lunged forward to catch him before he hit the floor.

He hissed; I guessed he had several broken bones.

"Someone call an ambulance!" I screamed frantically at the photographer. He'd frozen, the cheeseburger oozing with grease and fatty meat only halfway to his lips.

He's not a reactive type to trouble. Typical.

I leaned forward, and he almost stopped breathing.

I kicked myself for how much perfume I was wearing; there was no point in it now anyway.

I'd just been dumped. Apparently I wasn't very good.

In bed that is.

Great. The best bloody way to stamp on your already trampled self confidence.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"John…Kramer…" He spat out some blood and then tried to explain. "My car…went off the road…lost control…"

I didn't remember much about what to do when someone was seriously injured, but I could remember that they shouldn't talk that much…don't ask me why, they just didn't. "Sssh, don't talk."

He glared at me; his blue eyes icy clear even though he was losing so much blood.

I bundle him next to Adam. "Don't move!" I called over my shoulder as I raced to the payphone.

His glare burned my back.

Picking up the phone, I heard Adam ask 'John' whether he wanted some cheeseburger. I smiled.

And that was the start.

The start of the beginning.

* * *

A month later saw me in a drug clinic.

I'd been using drugs and booze to help me get over everything that I'd lost, still had to loose.

I'd stayed in jail for a few nights; 'drunk and disorderly' was my charge.

There was a woman my age; Amanda. She was the one everyone else picked on, the hopeless druggie that was ground into the shit.

I simply watched; what else can you do in a hellhole like that?

In the end I was forced to go to this drug clinic.

I sat in the waiting room seething, and when my time to go in came I burst in to give the lady a piece of my mind.

I was seriously ranting, and the language wasn't exactly soapy clean, but the woman didn't notice.

I took a closer look; lank blond hair, unfocused, soft brown eyes.

Yup, definitely depression.

"Are you ok?" I reach out and touch her arm, my voice more sympathetic now.

She bursts into tears and crumples like a ball of paper; I hold her up.

Through her racking sobs she repeats one name over and over.

"John…_John_…"

Of course I know who she's talking about: everyone does.

John Kramer.

Jigsaw.

But I knew him more than most; I'd met him…_seen_ him…

And I was now too hopelessly caught up in his world to have to read anything about him.

* * *

_Some people call them players_

_But I'm far from terrified_

You see, I got too close to Mark Hoffman.

I shouldn't have started talking to him; it had been five months.

Five months of sitting next to him, trying to get over my crush and actually talk to him.

But hey; I always loved a challenge.

_Somehow I'm drawn to danger_

_And have been all of my life_

"Hi…I'm…I'm Sally," He looked at me, his head cocked slightly in question. "I've been here for 5 months now…"

His gaze scorches and I almost flush, but then he smiles slightly, as though marvelling at how much time had gone past.

I'd read the papers; five months ago his sister was murdered.

"Do they let you stay in when they close or something?" He finally joked.

I laughed, and he grinned back.

Before I really knew it, the bar was closing.

"Mark…" I wasn't really that sure how to continue. "You seem like a great bloke…why are you wasting your time here?"

He paused, and I kicked myself.

Idiot, you already _know_.

"I…I lost something…a while ago."

I cupped his face in my hands; he watched me carefully and I got a rather stupid urge to kiss him.

Goddamn alcohol.

"Whatever happened, please…stop kicking yourself about it. You're stronger than that."

He turned his head away from me. "You don't know me."

He winced as I forced him to face me again. "Mark Hoffman," I said, gearing up into full rant mode. "I've learnt more about you in the last few hours than you'll ever know, and I know you shouldn't be here...the holes aren't that deep, you know..."

Something cleared in his eyes.

"…What do you know about holes?"

I smile sadly and think about my ex.

Erickson, I think. It scared me that I couldn't remember; what was wrong with me?

I made up my mind to quit drugs etc then and there.

"More than you'll ever know…"

Hopefully…

If I had the guts, I would've kissed him then.

_It feels my heart's divided_

_Halfway between wrong and right_

Instead I told him to get out and get his life back.

I didn't know what I'd done until I heard that Seth Baxter was dead.

It was then that I really got involved in Jigsaw's life.

_I know I'm playing with fire but I don't know why_

* * *

It was around the 10th time I'd spent the night in prison that I heard.

"Anyone seen the douche bag recently?" A dirty redhead called from across the corridor.

I was pretending to sleep to avoid unwanted attention, but I was listening.

'Douche bag' was one of the things they'd called Amanda, amongst…other things.

"Dunno," The dark haired girl I was 'sharing' with answered, picking her teeth. "She's been out longer than usual…mebbe she's found a bitch to fuck."

The shrieks of laughter echoed through my ears.

Amanda…

It was a lucky guess, nothing more.

It was also a lucky guess how I found where they were hiding, where it was all happening…

I should've done something then, I guess.

As you can probably tell, I did a lot – maybe too much – guessing.

But the one thing I didn't guess until I found out was that Hoffman was in on it too.

* * *

That was the last time I met Mark Hoffman.

I'd known where he was going, what he'd done.

And again, I shouldn't have talked to him.

When I stepped out of the shadows and confronted him, his face was just as dark as the surroundings from which I'd emerged.

He could kill me.

Could've.

But for some reason, that didn't stop me…

_Yeah the bad boys are always catching my eye_

_I said the bad boys are always spinning my mind_

It hurt a lot, when he said that I didn't know him.

But I _did_.

The problem was I could never say how much I knew.

In the end, though, I did nothing.

He walked away.

I stayed.

And next thing I knew Amanda and Jigsaw were both dead.

_Even though I know they're no good for me it's the risk I take for the chemistry_

_With the bad boys always catching my eye_

* * *

Long story cut very short, I watched.

I was there when Strahm was crushed to death.

I was there when Perez died – at Hoffman's hands, of course. And when Erickson died – I can't tell you whether I was sad about this.

I was there to see place Hoffman in his second 'test' and flinch when his jaw was partially ripped off.

Come to think about it, I was there for pretty much every event in Jigsaw's twisted timeline – before and after his death.

Which is why I was unsurprised when Jill broke down; she wasn't really strong enough for what she'd done.

And that was why I was the one who stepped into that warehouse – through the front door, at least – whilst the sirens moaned faintly in the distance.

He was slumped back in a chair, and it felt much like when I'd first met him.

Apart from the fact he was holding a gun.

"Mark…" The sirens were getting closer, and that made me nervous.

I stared at his back as his finger slowly began to close round the trigger; the one I had lost and still had to loose.

I could just walk away now, the crack of a bullet resounding in my ears.

Have a normal life.

But I've always been attracted to the wrong kind of people.

Especially this one.

"_Mark…WAIT!"_

* * *

**Okay, so I cheated; it was half a song. So shoot me and hand me to Freddy Kruger (****hand**** me, he he…)**

**Wow, I DID get it done before Christmas…**

**Some more reviews and quiz answers would be nice…so far I have a range of 3 people…as they say in that Citroen advert C'MON!!!!**


	7. Just Say Yes

**I'm sorry about the last chapter because it isn't really that good because I was rushing, but I'll make it up to you in this one – promise!!!**

* * *

**Sally POV**

It's a relief when he turns round.

His defensive scowl turns to shock and I almost laugh; I wonder if he'll fall off the chair.

The he's scowling again.

"Sally?" He snaps. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

I open my mouth to say something, but all words suddenly seem inadequate.

Dammit, I should've planned this.

But then, I'd expected to either find the place crawling with FBI or to find Hoffman had already committed suicide.

Or both.

See? I'm good at guessing…

_I'm running out of ways to make you see_

_I want you to stay here beside me_

"Look," Hoffman sighs into the silence, irritated. "I'll answer everything. Yes, I _did_ make all this –" He gestures at the traps littered around the room. "Yes, I _do_ – or used to – work for Jigsaw –" He points at the blank monitors. "And yes, I _am_ about to kill myself." He waves the gun at me. "So if you piss off I can get on with the complicated processes of shooting myself in the head and you won't have to explain it all when the FBI gets here."

He puts the barrel of the gun back in his mouth, wincing as it stretches the scar on the right hand side of his jaw.

I stare at him. He glares back, waiting for me to leave.

_I won't be OK and I won't pretend I am_

_So just tell me today and take my hand_

_Please take my hand, please take my hand…_

He takes the gun from his mouth again and treats me to his most poisonous look yet.

"Uh, I think that was your cue to leave." I don't move. "Meaning right _now_."

"No." The word passes my lips before I realise it, and I flush vermillion as I realise how childish it sounds.

He smirks and stands. "Are you that keen to be arrested along with me?" A siren – closer now – proves his point.

"I was only trying to help…" I mutter.

He laughs; a short sharp bark. "Oh yes, and how exactly?"

I take a deep breath and begin.

_Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back_

_It's not a test or a trick of the mind only love_

"Ok…recapping…." He says slowly when I've finished. "You've got tickets for a flight to –"

"No," I correct him. "My friend is a pilot and says she'll fly us out for free."

"Oh, yeah, and what's the reason for it?" He snorts. "We're married or something?"

He catches my expression and groans. "Oh my God…"

"You have any better ideas?" I snap, worn down by fear and irritation.

"Uh, I had one before you showed up," He glances at the gun. "But if you want to join in on that…"

I sigh. Did he have to be so stubborn?

_It's so simple and you know it is, you know it is yeah_

_We can't be to and fro like this all our lives_

"Hoffman –"

"Oh, are we off first name terms now? Well in that case, can't you bloody fly to God knows where and leave me alone?"

"Mark –"

"MAKE UP YOUR MIND!" He chucks the gun into a corner of the room with a clatter and runs his fingers tiredly through his hair. "For God's sake…"

He's as shit scared as I am – and it's not just because of the oncoming FBI.

_You're the only way to me, the path is clear_

_What do I have to say to you, for God's sake dear_

_For God's sake dear, for God's sake dear…_

_Just say yes…_

"Mark, you don't have to die."

He laughs again, and it's hard, bitter.

"And what are the reasons for me to live? Haven't you seen what I've done? Who I've done it to…" He whispers, and I realise he's thinking about Amanda.

"Yeah, I know…" I say quietly, not sure how he will take it. "I came down here a lot of times…"

As I predicted his reaction was apoplectic.

"_What?!_" He screams. He closes his eyes and mentally calms himself, then fixes them on me. "What."

"Fine, I saw everything that happened, know what you've done and before you –"

He's suddenly in front of me, holding my head so tightly between my hands it feels like it's going to crack from the exerted pressure.

I take deep breaths to calm myself; I shouldn't feel this scared of him.

Actually, I don't.

For some reason I actually like the way he's holding me…

_Just say yes, cos I'm aching and I know you are too_

_For the touch of your warm skin as I breathe you in_

"Why the fuck would you do that?" He finally asks me softly.

"I needed to make sure she was ok," I blurt out. "After my parents died she was my only family and I know she hated me but still –"

He forces me to look at him. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Amanda," I choke, as all the emotions that I had under lock and key came to surface in my head. "Amanda…she was my sister."

His fingers release me slightly; they simply rest at my temples. I study his face and see the shock the one sentence caused, the pain that went with the name.

I hug him, hoping that by burying my head in his chest he wouldn't see the tears forming hotly on the edges of my vision. "Mark…"

_I can feel your heartbeat through my shirt_

"Don't." Something in his voice catches as he pushes me away turns his back on me and starts to walk away.

"I told you I knew you…" I mentally tell myself to stop trying to tell jokes. "Mark, she loved you. I know she wouldn't have blamed you and she wouldn't have wanted you to kill yourself either."

"Is there any other option?" He asks quietly.

"With me…" I start and stop, the tears choking me again."

He turns. "Are you sure you want this?"

I pause.

_This is all I wanted, all I want_

_It's all I want, It's all I want…_

I nod, and I feel a tear begin to fall down my face. I try to mentally stop it, but it keeps going…

_Just say yes…_

And then he's there and he's holding me close as I cry quietly, trying to hug away my tears.

I try to stop longing…

…_For the touch of your warm skin_

…Because he's Amanda's, now and always.

I'll never get to call him mine.

A siren finally stirs us into action.

"Where's your car?" He asks, walking back and pushing the gun down a chute through a hole in the wall.

He sees me staring and shrugs. "Be a bit hard to get it past customs…"

I smile weakly and he grins back.

We walk outside, the two of us, get in the car, and leave.

* * *

**If you can believe it, I wrote this in 24 hours. So YES, JinxSaw, I DID write more before New Year. Let's see if we can get it completely done…**

**Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS (It's Christmas Eve, so it had to be put in…)**


	8. Run

**A big thanks so far to everyone who has reviewed…please do the quiz!!!**

* * *

**Hoffman POV**

The car ride was – mostly – in silence.

I say mostly because I was constantly fiddling with the radio that sometime drowned it out, but then would hiss and fizz, letting it swamp back into the vehicle.

She wasn't talking because her confession had taken a lot out of her, and because she was concentrating on driving.

I wasn't talking because I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts, and because I was scared what might happen if I did.

Staring out the window at the blurring landscape, I realised that even if I had killed myself, it really wouldn't have done much.

Jigsaw did get something right after all.

And Amanda…

I risked a glance at Sally. She was too busy concentrating on driving, so she didn't notice.

When concentrating, you could actually make links.

The same determined look.

The same smile.

The same eyes…

I looked away; it was too painful.

Maybe that's what I found familiar about Amanda; I'd seen Sally in her face.

And looking at Sally, I realised I'd made the best decision of my life.

Not that it had immediately cancelled out the bad ones…

_I'll sing it one last time for you, then we really have to go_

_You've been the only thing that's right in all I've done_

A few hours later, Sammi stopped the car.

In some woods.

Ooookaayy…

"This is our stop." She said, undoing her seatbelt. She noticed my confused look and sighed. "We're ditching the car; the airstrip isn't too far from here. Like it or not, we're walking."

It was then I noticed it was raining.

No, wait…is snow meant to be white?

"It's snowing…" I commented.

"Shit," She swore, but didn't move.

We sat there for a bit, staring at the snow.

_And I can barely look at you, but every single time I do_

_I know we'll make it anywhere away from here_

"We'd better move," She said at last. "It's settling."

"Yeah…" I looked at her sideways. She was smiling softly, the falling snow casting occasional shadows over her face.

I reached over and grasped her hand. I'd taken off my gloves and her hand was warm against mine, the royal crimson nail varnish chipped.

_Light up, light up, as if you have a choice_

_Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you dear_

She pulled her hand from mine; the smile flickered and died.

"Sally…?" I asked cautiously.

"Don't." I see the tears start to form, almost break. "Just…don't, yeah?"

I tilted her face in my hands just like she'd done to me all that time ago. "Sally…why?" I ask quietly, and it's not just asking why she doesn't want me to touch her.

It's asking why she bothered to help me at all.

"I just…" She swallowed, trying to get the right words out. She lowers her eyes. "Please…don't use me as a replacement.

I look at her blankly, the silence deafening.

_Louder, louder, and we'll run for our lives_

_I can hardly speak, I understand why you can't raise your voice to say_

And then I realise.

She thinks that just because she's Amanda's sister, I'm trying to love her.

She thinks I love Amanda.

And I also realise that she loves me, she's just kept in her sister's shadow.

Not good enough.

But she is.

Better.

And I'm not quite sure how to put that across.

_To think I might not see those eyes makes it so hard not to cry_

_And as we say our long goodbyes I nearly do_

"Sally," I grip her hands in mine, trying urgently to make her understand. "You're not a replacement. I love –"

"Stop." The tears start falling. I brush them impatiently away from her face and keep going.

"You're forgetting something; I met you first. I thought I was in love with Amanda, but it's you. I swear to God, it's always been you." She looked at me questioningly. "Look, you're sisters, right? Well, in some ways you're one and the same, and I guess most siblings are like that. When I saw Amanda…I saw you." I caught her look. "Yeah, I'm fucking confused as well, but it's true, I swear!"

She shook her head. "Mark…"

I leaned forward. "Trust me…I love you."

We stare at each other, falling shadows on our faces.

And then she's kissing me and I'm kissing her back, fumbling at her bra strap.

She breaks off. "We shouldn't…" She breaths – and then my top is off and so are most of her clothes, and the snow is covering the windshield.

_Light up, light up…_

I guess most people are able to catch moments, keep them for when they write them down.

But this was light and darkness, warmth and cold, and it doesn't really matter how you do it or how good it is.

There's no point in describing touch and taste and feeling.

It just _is_.

And really, that is all it should be.

No need for describing, no need for actual words.

Just love.

_Louder, louder…_

She moans and rests against my chest. I'm surprised we haven't knocked the hand break or something, but we don't appear to be moving.

Snow covers the windshield.

"Let's go." She murmurs, shrugging her clothes back on. I sigh and do the same; I'd almost forgotten what we were meant to be doing.

In the end, it's as simple as the plan was.

Get in aeroplane. Go.

Into a new life.

I guess this is the simple version of 'rebirth'…

* * *

**You may notice that the rating has changed. I wonder why…**

**VERY LAST CHAPTER coming up: please review and do the quiz or I won't put up the answers. C'mon, the little green button doesn't jump out and kill you if you click on it!**


	9. Epilogue

**Well, it's the last chapter – and I managed to get it done before the New Year (that's a first!).**

**Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favourited, and a massive shout out to Kalika Barlow, VampGirl360 – now JinxSaw – and life is dark and depressing – who I never realised was part Indian. Speaking of which, can all three of the above write more of their Saw fanfics soon, because it's tiring when there is nothing new to read in the middle of IT/Maths lessons/any lesson with a laptop or computer.**

**And, of course, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!**

**Right, that's the talking done, now let's actually get on with it…**

* * *

"_Olly Murs, Olly Murs, Joe Mc-"_

"_STOP SINGING THAT FUCKING SONG!"_

"_Ow, ow, please let go of the hair… ok, FINE."_

_Hoffman grinned slightly as he watched the two fighting girls from the other side of the road as they walked out of the school gates. He hoped that he'd got the right person, though – the results if he hadn't could be disastrous._

"_So, Aims," The ginger one said, clearly using a nickname. She was wearing a fuzzy black beret and a little too much mascara. "You thought of anything new to write yet?"_

"_Not really," Sighed the other girl. Her hair was dyed auburn and a lot of lip-gloss. "I've completely run out of ideas." She took a muffin out of her black handbag and bit into it delicately, trying not to smudge her lip-gloss._

"_Ah hah!" The other girl cried out. "You could write a story about the fact that Jigsaw lives under your bed and you feed him muffins!"_

"_Kat," 'Aims' sighed, taking another nibble. "It is something called a joke…"_

"_Yeah, well, you're obsession with muffins is a crime against life!"_

"_It is not!"_

"_It won't be now!" 'Kat' hit the muffin from 'Aims's' hand. It rolled into the road and was run over by a passing Ford._

"_Biatch!" 'Aims' glared at 'Kat'. Then blanched. "Oh shit…is that Egg I can see?"_

"_Where?" 'Kat' looked round frantically for 'Egg', and 'Aims' snatched her beret and tossed it neatly on top of the remains of the muffin._

"_Oh naaaw…" Groaned 'Kat' as a mini pulled into the road. Hoffman took his chance and rushed across, snatching the beret as he went._

"_This yours?" He asked casually._

"_Yup, thanks." 'Kat' grinned, giving 'Aims' the finger before taking it. 'Aims' sulked._

"_You're SawManiac211, right?" Hoffman asked her. 'Aims' brightened._

"_Yup, that's me."_

_Hoffman suddenly noticed 'Kat' looking at him oddly. Shit…He quickly gave 'Aims' a CD. "For the writer's block." He mumbled, and then ran off. Hiding round the corner, he heard Kat's squeal._

"_OH MY GOD! THAT WAS COSTAS MANDYLORE!"_

"_Hmm…" He risked a look round the corner and saw that 'Aims' was reading the note inside the case. She snapped it shut and slipped it into her bag. "C'mon Kat, we've got work to do."_

"_But that was –"_

"_I KNOW who that was, but if I want to start writing soon we've got to move."_

"_Ooo, was he giving you ideas?" Asked 'Kat' eagerly._

"_Not really…" 'Aims' looked in the direction Hoffman had gone and smiled. "C'mon."_

_As they walked she said, "By the way, you owe me another muffin."_

"_Wow, he's even fitter than in the movies!"_

"_Kat, are you even listening to me?"_

"_Better than Richard Hammond…"_

"…_I'm guessing not."_

"_Better than Robert Patterson!"_

"_Kat, he is soooo butters."_

"_Taylor Lautner then."_

"_Better. And you now owe me two muffins."_

"_What for?!"_

"_For not listening. Now give my beret back."_

"_No."_

"_Kat…"_

"_Shan't."_

"_KAT…"_

"_I'm not listening, lalalaaaa!"_

_Hoffman smirked and silently walked away._

* * *

_You will not believe how many movies and books are actually true._

_When Hoffman and Sally made it into Britain, they were slightly confused as to why the FBI weren't trying to find them._

_At least, until the Saw movies came out._

_Basically, every killer that they cannot find is eradicated from history and pasted onto a film._

_So no-one realises that the threat is real._

_And since all movies seem to be made in America, they all come to Britain._

_As Hoffman entered their small apartment, he was once again confronted with the deep gash on the wall – a constant reminder of their visit from Michael Myers._

"_Mark?" Sally called from the front room. There was a buzzing and a guy in a leather mask rounded the corner, waving a chainsaw._

"_No offence, mate, but Texas is that way." Hoffman sighed, pointing at the door. Leatherface cocked his head. "Go on, piss off."_

_Surprisingly, he pissed off._

_You just needed to know how to handle them…_

_Sally smiled weakly at him. "Freddy Kruger showed up again."_

"_Oh my God…" He groaned, dumping his coat._

"_I kicked him in the balls."_

"_Good." Hoffman flopped down on the sofa next to her and grinned. "So you think we're doing well?"_

"_Very…" She purred, and then they were reliving what happened in the car in the woods in the snow…_

_And somewhere out there, a girl was eating muffins, tapping at her keyboard and humming along to Leona Lewis as she started her writing…_

_As well as plotting revenge over the beret and squashed muffins._

_NO-ONE steals her beret or squashes her muffins._

* * *

**Yes, I had to end with a bit of randomness.**

**And yes, my friends and I ARE that insane.**

**JinxSaw, you can start your story now…**

**The quiz answers shall remain always a mystery. MWA HA HA!!!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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